


An introspective moment of silence

by ShariDeschain



Series: I wish you would write a fic where meme [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShariDeschain/pseuds/ShariDeschain
Summary: There are several ways to handle the situation he’s witnessing right now with his own eyes, and Bruce, being the master of strategy that he is, knows that the direct approach is probably the worst of them. And yet, he has to ask.“Are they drugged?”





	An introspective moment of silence

There are several ways to handle the situation he’s witnessing right now with his own eyes, and Bruce, being the master of strategy that he is, knows that the direct approach is probably the worst of them. And yet, he has to ask.

“Are they drugged?”

Jason scoffs, not bothering to turn away from the television screen in front of him. Besides him, Damian exhales softly, one cheek smushed against Jason’s side, feet resting on Tim’s lap. He looks uncomfortable, but too tired to care. Same thing goes for Tim, curled up on the other side of the couch and awkwardly sprawled into the narrow space not already occupied by his brothers. The television is the only source of light in the room, but it’s on mute, and the silence, combined with the bright lights from the screen, makes the three of them look like a living portrait of exhaustion.

“Of course you’d ask that”, Jason answers after a beat, having care to keep his voice low despite the show of irritation. “‘Cause that’s what I do with my life. I go around every night, haunting the innocent streets of Gotham City, beating up old ladies and drugging children and teenagers along the way.”

“I never said anything about old ladies, and I’m sure you’d never drug a random child or a teenager”, Bruce complies, lips relaxing into a thin smile. “But these ones? I do wonder.”

Jason scoffs again, but it’s closer to a laugh that he’d ever admit. Bruce takes the win and steps further into the room, until his legs brush against the couch armrest where Tim’s dark head is currently nestled.

“Everything went well tonight, I take?”, Bruce asks, although the answer is quite obviously snoring in front of him.

“Better than I’d expect”, Jason confirms anyway. “Not that your son didn’t do his absolute best to try and get all of us killed, of course”, he adds, and that’s when Bruce notices his fingers combing gently through the boy’s short hair. “He dived head first into goddamn Arkham, Bruce. He’s crazy. Next Christmas I’m buying you a baby leash or something.”

“I think Dick already tried that”, Bruce hums, trying to distract himself from the sudden and very vivid image of Damian alone and surrounded by psychotic criminals. He should’ve been there. Why wasn’t he there?

“Oh god, he jokes”, Jason groans in response, distracting him. “As if tonight wasn’t crazy enough. And by the way, I’m never babysitting again, just for you to know.”

Jason doesn’t sound angry, doesn’t even sound that much annoyed by having to play the big brother for the night, so Bruce blinks and takes a moment to think before answering.

“I, uhm. I want you to know that I am grateful for tonight, Jason”, he starts. “I appreciate you coming here to help. You didn’t have to.”

Jason stiffens and Bruce realizes right away that it was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t have to?”, Jason repeats, finally turning around to look at him. “And what the hell did you expect me to do? Say _fuck it_ and let them go against an Arkham outbreak alone and without backup?”

Yes, it was the wrong thing to say. It’s _always_ the wrong thing to say, and sometimes, like right now, the frustration threatens to tear Bruce’s mind to pieces because talking to Jason used to be so _easy_ , and now every other word is a diplomatic incident.

Bruce resists both the urges to sigh and apologize.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah? Because that’s what it sounded like”, Jason cuts him off.

“I don’t want to fight, son. I only wanted to thank you.”

That does nothing to placate Jason. As a matter of fact, it actually seems to enrage him even more ( _shouldn’t have used the s- word_ , Bruce thinks), and he moves too quickly, disturbing Damian and Tim in the process.

Bruce and Jason both stop, looking down at the two boys shifting and rearranging themselves on the couch and against each other. There are a few seconds of confusion and random squirming, then Tim subconsciously grabs Damian’s ankles to stop the kicking, moving the boy’s feet away from his face, and Damian twists and slides down to rest his head on Jason’s lap, apparently untroubled by the ruckus.

Bruce, who knows better, monitors both their breathing to try and understand if they’re awake or not, and he knows that Jason’s doing the same. He also knows that both Damian and Tim are very good at pretending, so trying to figure each other out is probably just an useless exercise for all of them. 

There’s a commercial break, and the flashy spot of a new Batman and Robin themed cereal line dyes the room a different color every other second. Now his kids are red, now they’re green, and now yellow, and Bruce finds worrisome that he can hear the jingle in his head even in the silence of the room.

Jason waits a few moments, and then, his hand still resting on Damian’s head, he continues softly. 

“That’s the thing, Bruce. You thanking me”, he explains with a frown that Bruce can barely catch in the flashing lights. “If it were him, you wouldn’t thank Dick for doing his job. You’d assume he didn’t need any thanking for helping out his family. You’d assume it’d be just natural.”

And Bruce can be dense in regard of certain topics, he knows that (mostly because Dick and Alfred keep saying it to him), but sometimes, like right now, he understands things just right.

So he waits for the spot to end, for that brief moment of darkness between another starts, and he moves to sit on the couch armrest, close to Tim’s head, careful not to disturb him.

“Okay”, he says then.

“Okay?”, Jason repeats. “Okay what?”

Bruce mirrors his second eldest son’s movements and starts petting Tim’s hair.

“You’re right”, he answers after a moment. “I withdraw my thanks.”

“You withdr- Bruce, that’s not how it works.”

“Why not?”

Jason seems at loss of words there. On the screen, the movie he was watching starts again. They were in the middle of an explosion apparently, because as soon as it starts the room looks like it’s on fire. Bruce frowns. He’s sure he knows this movie, and he tells Jason so.

“Of course you know it, it’s The Crow”, Jason sighs. And for a moment it looks like he wants to add something else, then he shakes his head and settles back against the cushion, attention already shifting on Eric Draven and his violent vendetta.

“I don’t think I like it”, Bruce states after a few scenes, and Jason can only laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> \- One day I'll write a 10 page essay of why The Crow (incidentally one of my favorite movies ever) is Jason's favorite movie too but until that day you're stuck with me hinting it in various fics I guess.  
> \- Written for the "I wish you would write a fic where...", [here's the prompt](https://unavenged-robin.tumblr.com/post/165682526083/i-wish-you-would-write-a-fic-where-jason-and).  
> \- Yes, this is totally set during Dick’s time as Agent 37. Yes, I’m a bad person.


End file.
